


Mirrors I: Rearview

by Detective_Inspector_Hotdish



Series: Mirrors [1]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Car Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 17:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16791250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detective_Inspector_Hotdish/pseuds/Detective_Inspector_Hotdish
Summary: First in a series of reflections and what they show.





	Mirrors I: Rearview

Their reunion at the Southampton docks was strangely subdued. A tender touch of lips against lips, his gentle hand against the small of her back, and her hands grasping the lapels of his coat. They held hands while they walked from his ship to a line of of automobiles waiting for passengers as she explained how she hadn’t found an auto she liked quite as much as the Hispano. Her parents chauffeur, Mr Stuart, had been doing the bulk of the driving since her arrival in England.

They walked up to an elegant Rolls-Royce Phantom, the driver of which was rather terrifyingly decrepit. As always, Phryne could feel his apprehension and paused briefly to assure Jack that “While he is positively an antique, no one is a more adept driver than Mr Stuart. His discretion rivals that of Mr Butler as well, so don’t hold back on his account”. 

Taking a deep breath to center himself, knowing that there would be no way he would be able to maintain composure for the almost two-hour ride to Phryne’s townhouse in London, Jack slid onto the comfortably upholstered back seat, next to the woman he had spent weeks traveling on the oceans to see.

Amazingly, the first half of the trip was spent catching up on cases she had missed during her absence from Melbourne (regrettably, one she solved immediately, just from Jack’s description; something that had taken him two days of solid investigative work). However, once the talk of missed cases dissolved, there was nothing safe to fill the silence of the trip with.

At first, it was just her fingertips wandering. A touch on his cheek while she remarked in awe that he had come after her. A brief grasp on his bicep as she excitedly pointed out a landmark they were driving past. Those slight touches gradually increased to her warm fingertips drawing circles on the inside of his wrists, her body sliding closer to him... close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck. If they had been in Melbourne, would he have felt self-conscious of their closeness? He hoped not, but feared that he would have been.

This is what they had been working towards; all those crime scenes, nightcaps, dinners. A fashion show, a film, magicians, tennis, and a journey across the world. All of it had been leading up to this. Settled by this realization, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her even closer. Even through the layers of wool, he could feel her warm body against his. 

Jack lowered his face to her neck and began nuzzling, his lips and tongue nipping at the skin he found. Phryne’s head lolled to the side and he reveled in the greater expanse of herself that she had bared to him. With each quiet gasp, he became more emboldened and his hands began mapping the topography of her body through her silk blouse. She turned her face to his and they dove for each other. Lips slipping and tongues dipping, shared breaths, the wet heat of their joined mouths. 

Jack pulled Phryne onto his lap, becoming even more enveloped in her warmth and her scent. She could feel his growing desire beneath her and she experimentally ground her bottom against him, her lips twisting into a smirk when a deep groan tore through him. Half blinded by lust, they gave little thought to their driver, or whatever thoughts or criticisms he may have of their actions.

Glancing back to the road from the rearview mirror, Mr. Stuart pondered. He had grown up in service, as had his father, and his father before him. The greatest lesson he had learned from them had been that of discretion towards one’s master; those he served may exist in a rank far above his own, but they were still merely human. They had their own desires, their own hopes, their own sins. It wasn’t his place to judge their activities, for he knew what happened below the stairs certainly rivaled what happened above them. Having served at the Fisher estate since before Miss Phryne and her parents had arrived, he had become quite close to the family, at least as close as a servant could appropriately be with their masters. 

He was happy that Miss Phryne seemed pleased with the arrival of the Inspector and was slightly surprised by how she was restraining herself. Having transported the Fisher family around for some number of years, first with their horses and fine carriage and then by automobile, he had been privy to far more salacious journeys. Maybe if was her maturity, or perhaps that the bond she shared with this Antipodean Inspector reached far beyond the sexual realm and perhaps into something that could even be called love. 

They were still about a half hour outside of London proper, a fact that caused Phryne to smile to herself... there was still plenty of time to undo her dear Inspector. She had been seated on him side-saddle, but quickly moved to straddle him, putting the wet heat of her core in contact with his hardness. There may have been several layers of cotton, wool, and silk between them, but Phryne was positive that by the time they arrived, there would be a conspicuous wet spot on Jack’s trousers. 

In this position, they could kiss more deeply, as if they were trying to crawl into the other’s very soul. The ability to restrain themselves from their baser desires shattered and they could no longer hold themselves back. Phryne’s grinding against Jack turned frantic as his mouth traveled down her the skin of her neck, which was rapidly becoming more and more exposed as he released the buttons of her blouse. All that she wore beneath her blouse was a thin bandeau-style brassiere, which Jack was able to easily release her modest breasts from.

Once he saw her hardened, dusky pink nipples, the need for his mouth to suckle them became overwhelming, and he eagerly succumbed. His hands needed somewhere to be, and the places that felt most right were her slim hips. Jack found himself in the position to be able to guide her thrusts, pulling her even more solidly against his now rock-hard cock. As much as he wanted the joy of release, his focus was so much more on ensuring that she reached hers. As he looked into her glassy-eyed stare and heard her quiet gasping, he realized that there was nothing more in the ever-expanding universe that he needed more than to watch her shatter above him.

Jack’s lips lightly grazed her ear before he whispered “You’re going to come, aren’t you? I can feel how wet and hot you are, you’re so beautiful... I can hardly wait until we’re in your bed, when I can fuck you with my mouth and then with my cock. I want to feel your cunt squeeze me, I want to taste your release on my tongue... but more than that I want to see you lose control, and Phryne- I want to see it now. God, I love you!”. With a broken gasp, her back arched and her eyes rolled back, her entire body shaking and then collapsing onto his. 

Jack, still as hard as steel, but somehow still feeling an enormous sense of relief, carefully buttoned her blouse and held her in his arms. Dropping gentle kisses onto her lips and neck, her body still experiencing the pure joy of la petite mort, he glanced into the rearview mirror in time to see Mr. Stuart suddenly avert his eyes, but not before he noted a glint of happiness in the old man’s eyes. Jack questioned himself; did he feel shame? Certainly not. He loved Phryne, of that he was sure. He had helped her reach something they had both wanted. Was he embarrassed that there had been an audience? That he had brought her to climax in a very public venue? Oddly enough, he felt a surge of pride. 

Jack may not have previously thought of exhibitionism as an act he would ever participate, but now as he held a quivering Phryne in his arms, he was not averse to performing such an act again in the future. His existence before meeting The Honorable Miss Phyrne Fisher suddenly felt so bland; a life of grey amongst a gloriously colored garden. He had pledged to never try and change her, but perhaps he would be enough for her? Perhaps he was the one who would change? He glanced down at her drowsy smile and realized that what they had shared and what they had to learn of each other’s pleasure... it was everything.


End file.
